Chapter 103

Chapter 103

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 103: A Prudent College Life (3).

They arrived at Southern Holy Spirit Hospital, greeted the priests, and placed Ire in the treatment room.

“May the blessing of the stars be with you, students,” one of the priests said.

The Outer Gods groaned in my mind, “Gweeeeeeek—.” The Holy Spirit Hospital was a sanctuary, a place where the energy of the stars concentrated, rendering the Outer Gods powerless. Ire needed to recuperate here until her condition improved.

I sighed as I glanced at the protagonist, who looked drowsy.

“Let’s try to distinguish friend from foe.”

Zelnya and I waited for Father to arrive.

With a gloomy expression, Zelnya spoke, “There’s nothing we can do.”

“Same here.”

“They say she’s in a coma. Do you think she can survive?”

“Even if you ask me that, I can’t say for sure.”

At that moment, urgent footsteps echoed from outside. I poked my head out and saw a man in a white gown running quickly.

“Who is that man?”

“He’s my dad.”

“Oh.”

Zelnya, stunned by this sudden revelation, sank into her thoughts. I stepped forward, bowed to my father, and took his bag.

“Father, it’s been a while.”

“Aidel, is that you?”

“Yes, the patient is over there—”

Without hesitation, my father washed his hands and stepped into the clinic.

As he examined Ire, his brow furrowed. “Strange.”

“What is it?”

“There are about a dozen Outer Gods.”

The priests gasped, their faces pale with fear. My father quickly diagnosed Ire’s condition, revealing that three military legions were working together to drain her strength. However, her Pron level remained relatively stable.

“The main cause of her fainting appears to be this external injury, likely inflicted with a tool.”

Ahem.

“Is treatment possible?”

“We’ll try some alternative methods. Emergency care should be feasible.”

Father began the procedure. Though it was termed a procedure, it didn’t involve opening Ire’s skull. Instead, he employed a medical technique involving a Constellation.

He channeled his Constellation’s energy in waves, suppressing the Outer God’s aura and performing a non-invasive surgery.

“This should avert the immediate crisis.”

Upon checking the status window, I noticed that Ire’s Pron value had dropped by about 2000.

Right after the surgery, as Father wiped the sweat off his brow, Zelnya exclaimed, “Impressive.”

She turned to me and asked, “What kind of Constellation does he have to perform such a surgery?”

“Ophiuchus.”

“If it’s the Serpent Bearer, you mean the thirteenth constellation of the zodiac?”

“Yes, the thirteenth constellation.”

The Reinhardt family is renowned for their medical expertise, and that’s precisely why I called my father.

“By the way, which school did your father graduate from?”

“Stellarium Medical School.”

Zelnya’s face lit up, and she sprang to her feet, rushing straight to my father.

“Senior, Senior!”

Wow, look at this sly fox!

There truly seems to be such a thing as chemistry between people. I never imagined my father would grow so fond of Zelnya, and the feeling was clearly mutual.

“I heard that humans value academic, regional, and blood connections,” Cartesia had once said.

Academic: Possible connection as alumni from Stellarium Medical School. (O)

Regional: Adelwein (North) / Reinhardt (South). (X)

Bloodline: The Adelwein and Reinhardt families are related. (O)

“This can’t be happening.”

I realized now that Zelnya’s sudden actions weren’t impulsive; they were part of a grand plan to leverage our academic and familial ties. Apparently, my father had just become a professor at the medical school this semester, which meant I would be encountering Zelnya even more frequently.

Father had spoken with Zelnya for a full three hours. When he finally approached me, his expression was slightly more relaxed.

“Aidel.”

“Yes, Father?”

“What in the universe have you been doing all this time?”

“Pardon?”

Had I done something wrong? I never intended to upset him.

“Because of you, the council is in turmoil.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some of the elders have changed their stance. They’re saying you should be made the head of the family.”

Ah.

To summarize my father’s words: Because of you, the power succession structure is in disarray.

“I always hoped the Reinhardt family would remain a lineage of medical professionals. But it seems you’ve grasped my true intentions quite well.”

What is he suddenly talking about?

“It’s no use feigning ignorance now. That girl you brought here—the one you claim needs treatment—has told me everything.”

Wait a minute. Something feels off in this conversation.

“The audacity to call your father to such a place reflects your bold judgment. The timing was impeccable. You aimed for the head position right when the value of the Ether Belt skyrocketed.”

“Father, there seems to be a misunderstanding—”

“It’s not a misunderstanding; it’s a jackpot. You sly fox.”

My father pressed firmly on my forehead as if trying to push my thoughts away.

I was at a loss for words. The position of the family head? I had no interest in it. As the saying goes, ‘He who wears the crown must bear its weight.’ Becoming the family head comes with responsibilities and suffering.

How am I supposed to handle business and asset management? At the very least, I intended to leave the family estate to Ceti.

“You were very meticulous. Fine, I do not doubt your abilities.”

My father tapped my shoulder. Of all the conversations I’d had with Arnold, this one felt the warmest, yet it chilled me to the bone.

“How’s your madness?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean from the Alcatraz incident. You were attacked by an Incarnate, weren’t you? If necessary, I can diagnose you again—”

“I’m fine now.”

“……So, my son was just a genius.”

A chill ran down Arnold’s spine. Even as Aidel’s father, sometimes his heart skipped a beat. Fortunately, they share the same Reinhardt bloodline; otherwise, he might have lost it.

“Aidel.”

Tap, tap.

Father lightly tapped my shoulder again.

“Do well with that girl.”

Something is happening here. An absurd misunderstanding seems to be snowballing. I turned my head to glare at Zelnya. She was smirking slyly.

It seems both Father and Zelnya have some scheme…

“Sigh.”

My head hurts. I need to relax by looking at my thesis during times like this.

A week later, I settled into a suitable PC room to register for classes. I had entrusted Sonia with monitoring Ire for the past seven days, which brought me a sense of relief. I even instructed her to restrain the protagonist if she attempted to escape, even if it meant resorting to violence.

I glanced at the time.

8:10.

There was still plenty of time until course registration began at 10. However, one problem loomed ahead.

“Ha, we meet again,” Zelnya said, plopping down next to me. She grumbled like a cat whose treat had just been snatched away.

Her expression was tough, reminiscent of the delinquent students you’d find in a rough high school, which struck me as oddly unsettling.

“Of all places, the same PC room? What a coincidence.”

With a sigh, I refocused on the screen. The priority was determining which professor’s class to take for my major.

Even if I opted for an easy course like general physics, a skilled professor could offer valuable insights—whether through a novel idea or a fresh perspective on problem-solving.

Click.

I added Professor Feynman’s general physics class to my cart.

Then, click.

Zelnya followed suit, adding the same class.

“Hmm, so that’s the section you’re going for,” she observed.

“Hey, you can just take the ones meant for medical students.”

“It’s a common subject anyway, so it doesn’t matter which section you choose, right? The grades are combined, too.”

“There are plenty of other good professors out there, you know? Don’t target mine.”

“Funny. Is this person yours?”

Zelnya wasn’t just aiming for Professor Feynman.

Click, click.

She continued to add classes—general chemistry, general biology, basic coding, writing, and even math—all in the same schedule and section as me.

“Aren’t you going to take any major classes?”

“Hmm, first-year pre-med is pretty much the same as science majors. Even after these classes, I still have 12 credits to spare.”

It’s infuriating that medical students can take up to 30 credits per semester. It feels so unfair. Honestly, they should treat physics majors the same way. I remember back on Earth during my college days when I tried to emulate a medical student, loading up on eight major courses each semester. I managed to breathe, but it often left me in tears.

As soon as the clock struck 10, I lunged for General Physics. Honestly, as long as I could secure a spot in Professor Feynman’s section, nothing else mattered.

“……Ha, got it.”

Zelnya succeeded too.

“……Ha, I’m screwed.”

It seems Zelnya hasn’t changed at all. If I end up in an arranged marriage like this, I won’t be able to face Rustila. Even if things go smoothly, I could end up like Father and Ceti’s mother. And if it goes horribly wrong, both families could be wiped out like a tragic math problem—1+1 equals disaster.

Registered Credits/Maximum Credits: 21/22

“Argh! So frustrating!”

One credit remains. The national rule of ‘3 credits = 1 course’ means I can’t just throw this anywhere.

“Shall I take some required courses now, hmm?”

Unlike the medical students, who seem to have it all figured out, I’ve had to shed desperate tears just to gather one-credit majors.

“Molecular Biology. Let’s start with this.”

Sophomore year, not available.

“Organic Chemistry. I have to take this too.”

Junior year, not available.

“History of Medicine? It’s a sophomore course, but the lecturer is a senior?”

Senior year.

Damn, not available!!!

There isn’t a single appealing one-credit physics course!

With trembling hands, I chose to change my course registration.

College

Click.

Graduate

There’s a lot to choose from.